I've been a best-selling author for many years; displaying the lives of the most vicious killers on paper. Most of my stories were of notorious men and the gruesome crimes they’d committed throughout their lives. I’d sit face-to-face with them; staring directly into their eyes; getting the straight facts. People loved me for it.

“Robin Nicollette, how do you manage to get through those terrifying interviews?” they’d ask me.

I’d expose my most confident smile and reply, “I embrace the rush that comes along with talking directly to a murderer; smelling their wicked scents; feeling the same presence they feel. A surge of adrenaline would pump through my veins, knowing that I could easily be ripped into pieces at those exact moments. However, fear never consumes me. Instead the interviews empower me; cursing me with a thirst for another rush.”

But this time was different, and not because I was preparing to interview a woman. I’ve interviewed several women who had killed once or twice in their lifetimes. However, never before had I interviewed a young, female serial killer. It wasn’t fear that I possessed, but instead a craving to learn more about this feminine beauty who had chosen a life known mostly to men.

“My life might’ve been different if I hadn’t murdered my mom.”

That was something twenty-five-year-old Alexis Webb said that I will never forget. We covered many details during the interview. But what sticks out the most is how she maintains that only her mother and the Pastor were ‘murders’. All the others were mere acts of ‘serving justice’. Alexis’ accomplice was petite, redhead Natalie Miller. The two were lovers who teamed up to commit a series of crimes. They took justice into their own hands in an attempt to seek revenge for rape victims.

I studied the young woman as the interview progressed. Her character would be depicted impeccably in the book. I took mental pictures of her body language; even the scornful way she rolled her eyes as she discussed the male victims. Alexis would twirl her thumbs and stare off into space while describing details of the kidnappings and slayings. She didn’t skip a beat as she recited the particulars of the scenes and murder weapons. Alexis’ references to the severed male genitalia as trophies and art bemused me, but I didn’t allow it to show. She was confident and I was determined to appear the same. Emotions suggested weakness and I was resolved not to display any signs of my natural, instinctive feelings during the interview. I simply watched and listened to the obstinate brunette with big blue eyes expose her version of the slayings.

Heber Springs, Arkansas had been traumatized by the numerous disappearances. I followed the stories on the news for quite some time and worried for the men of the city. Initially, there weren’t any conspicuous connections between those who went missing. All men, young and old, were at risk, and for the first time in my life I actually witnessed trepidation in the city’s inhabitants. However, I didn’t see any of this apprehension in the eyes of Alexis as she told their story. Instead, she was beaming over their accomplishments. She and Natalie had served the justice that the system failed to. The male victims were animals. They were prey that had received the justice they deserved. Alexis was confident that she would get the warranted recognition after the book was released. The world would learn the truth and even agree to carry on the killers’ endeavors. She was sure of it.

Alexis started her story from the beginning; from the day she ‘murdered’ her mother...

Chapter One

Uncle Joe Loves His Butterball

My life might’ve been different if I hadn’t murdered my mom. I’m indeed the epitome of a natural born killer. It started when Mom suffered a fatal stroke. I was then delivered by emergency C-section. The doctors and team were at a loss. How could such a healthy, uncomplicated, low-risk pregnancy lead to such demise? My mother had shown no signs or symptoms of anything of this nature. Things quickly took an abysmal turn. But it wasn’t unfathomable to me. I knew what had happened. I did it while I was inside of her womb. Dad, he would never let me forget it either. ‘You murdering Bitch’, he’d call me during his usual drunken, vulgar displays. When he’d drink I’d be all sorts of inimical things. He had been a drunk for as long as I could remember. Sometimes I would piss him off for one reason or another and he’d slap me around. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do anything right in his eyes. Dad hated me for taking mom away and he was determined to make sure I paid for it with my own life. He proved it the night that I graduated from high school. That’s when it all began. I used to try to forget that night, but it wouldn’t go away. Then an epiphany struck me like lightning. Without that night, my work wouldn’t have been accomplishable. The memories that were burnt into my mind are what helped me to serve justice to the prey. It’s that night that should be marked on calendars and the day should be celebrated. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Sitting in the scorching sun, waiting for my name to be called was torturous. I didn’t want to be there to begin with, but Natalie insisted that I attend. She believed it was a big deal to receive a high school diploma, graduate valedictorian, and that I should happily participate in the ceremony by giving the commencement speech. I agreed to participate, but I wasn’t gonna be happy. High school was a complete waste of my time. The teachers made the work too simple. I would finish long before the class hours were over. Most of the time I sat in class fantasizing about Natalie. And the students seemed much too immature to befriend. I socialized as much as I needed to get by. Independence was always a preference of mine. High school politics were beneath me and there were more important things in life to worry about aside from hair and makeup. Students always tried to invite me places, spark up conversations, request that I tutor them, but I never agreed to any of it. I didn’t want anyone to know more about me than they had to.

The speaker finally called my name and I walked onto the stage. I hadn’t put forth much effort into preparing the valedictorian speech. It was an hour prior to the actual ceremony before I put something together. The whole thing just seemed silly to me. I wanted to accept my diploma and leave, but this speech stood in the way of that. Why did I have to prepare a speech anyways when I never even tried to become valedictorian? It just sorta happened.

As I stood at the podium with the microphone positioned directly in front of my mouth, I looked into the crowd and was amazed at the number of people that had shown up. At that moment, I realized perhaps I should have taken the speech thing a bit more seriously. The crowd was silent; waiting patiently for me to deliver the speech that I didn’t even believe in. Oh well, I began the stupid speech anyways:

To all of my classmates:The time has finally come for us to cross over into adulthood and genuinely start taking the steps to secure a prosperous future. Whether those steps include attending college or going directly into the workforce, take each stride with confidence and determination. We have already taken the initial step towards success by earning the ability to participate in this rewarding ceremony. Now let’s master our potential going forward and not settle for anything less than GREATNESS! The world is constantly advancing and obstacles are becoming grander. Don’t fear these facts, but instead embrace and accept them as challenges that are capable of being overcome! Let us each maximize our potential and show the world how powerful we are. Failure only exists when we quit trying. As long as we never cease pursuing our dreams, we are destined for success! Congratulations, Classmates! May your journey to success be exciting and may you achieve even more than you aim for! Thank you.

The crowd gave me a standing ovation! Parents, teachers, students, everyone stood up and clapped. A smile appeared on my face and it felt great having all of those people congratulate me. For a brief moment I pretended my family was part of the excited crowd. I imagined Mom and the healthy version of Dad standing and clapping for me. I was proud of myself, but then snapped back to reality and realized I didn’t recognize anyone in the audience. The only person who would have shown up was Natalie, but she had dates booked all morning.

After embracing the crowd’s acknowledgment once more, I proceeded on. The principal handed me my diploma. I shook his disgustingly sweaty hand, and then exited the stage. I was ecstatic that I would never have to attend that stupid place again!

After the ceremony, I was free for a few hours before having to return home and I couldn’t wait to see Natalie. She was consistently the only thing I thought about. I loved our secret relationship. ‘No one could know’, she would say, and I agreed. She was right and knew what was best. ‘This town would never understand true love’, she’d say. ‘One day we would be able to show the world how love is supposed to be shared between two people, but for now we would love in secrecy’. Natalie had the best advice. It wasn’t because she was older, but because she had done so much and seen so many things. It seemed there wasn’t anything she didn’t know. Natalie was from Little Rock. She was a big city girl. People from big cities are smarter than those of us from small towns. She was much more advanced than all of the ‘small minds in small towns’, she would say; she was definitely right.

We had so many things in common. Most importantly, we both understood what it was like to lose a mother. Natalie lost her mom when she was five-years-old in a car accident. Her dad was never around so she ended up being taken in by her Aunt Beth who worked as a prostitute. “My aunt, God bless her soul,” Natalie would say, “was a whore. She walked the streets lookin’ fo’ Johns. I was so embarrassed growin’ up knowin’ she was fuckin’ in motels, cars, alleys, or wherever she could find a place. But you know what, I remember the vow I made to myself; never end up being a street ho like Aunt Beth. I got much mo’ class than that. My dates find me by word o’ mouth. I meet the new ones in public places so they can’t pull no crap and we can run down the agreement. And they gotta be sober, clean, respectful, and definitely sane. Aunt Beth would screw any Tom, Dick, or Harry that was payin’. But not me! Sometimes she would bring all sorts of disgusting Johns to the apartment. I remember bein’ scared outta my mind most of the time; especially if they seemed like they might kick her ass.” At times when we discussed Natalie’s past, I could see the hurt in her eyes. I even heard the resentment in her voice that she had towards her aunt. Just like me, I wonder how Natalie’s life would have been different if her mother hadn’t died. Maybe she wouldn’t have dated, but instead focused solely on me.

This is brilliant and could definitely become a chilling story when it is fully finished. I think you have definitely captured the spirit do serial killing and the killers, the way that neither of them believe they've done something wrong.
Excellent, please keep me posted on your progress

I just read the prologue and also found it gripping. It makes a great starting point for a bestseller, though I agree with Konan that 'real time' would make it even more compelling.

EG: Present works well here...Then you shift to conditional. - "I embrace the rush that comes along with talking directly to a murderer; smelling their wicked scents; feeling the same presence they feel. A surge of adrenaline would pump through my veins, knowing that I could easily be ripped into pieces at those exact moments."

Were you to change conditional to present it would be more powerful. EG: 'A surge of adrenaline pumps through my veins, knowing that I could easily be ripped to pieces.' ;-)

I sincerely appreciate all of your feedback. I'm looking into changing the narrator to speak in the present tense. However, if it's not asking for too much, can you please read the first 2 paragraphs in Chapter One and tell me your thoughts?

It was very excellent writing. Nice usage of words to get a feel and a tone to the story. It felt a little slow during the memory part but maybe that is just me. I am sure others didn't have a problem with it. I am sure this will be an excellent book when it is finished.